


Love

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Those 100 [18]
Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Fluff, M/M, overuse of the word it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter never says it, but actions speak louder than words and everything is generally very sappy (but sweet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love

Peter never said it, but it showed in his actions; in a hundred different small ways that were inexpressible and worth more than that one word could ever be.

It showed in the way he deferred to Egon’s expertise on busts.  In the way he trusted the physicist’s judgment implicitly, and in the way he watched over him as if he were protecting something precious.

It showed when he unexpectedly found extra money in the budget and bought some expensive gadget for the lab that he somehow knew Egon had his eye on, despite the other man never saying a word about it.

It showed in how he acted around women now, smiling and charming them and signing autographs and then… snapping right back to Egon’s side, talking and joking with him as though he never needed to be doing anything else.

It showed even when he didn’t want it to; he would studiously avoid physical contact with Egon in public, sometimes even when it was just them and Ray and Winston, though to what end Egon couldn’t begin to guess.  Peter’s eyes would find him without fail, though, in crowds and in chaos and in quiet evenings at home.

It showed when he lost his temper with Egon, shouting about safety and unnecessary risks and _don’t ever do that again, do you hear me?_

It showed every time he _did_ touch Egon, brushing his shoulder, a hand on his lower back, fingers intertwining, an arm around his waist, tangling hands in his hair, grasping at any part of him within reach while gasping his name, and doing an admirable impression of an octopus while they slept.

It showed in the attention he fairly lavished on Egon in bed, unwinding the man to his barest components, until he could do nothing but lay there and gasp.  And it showed in the way he allowed Egon to do the same.

It fairly shone from his eyes every time he watched Egon just being Egon, in the lab, in the living area, eating breakfast, in bed, driving, any time he could allow his attention to wander to the bespectacled scientist.

Still, Peter didn’t seem to share this opinion with Egon.  One night, as they stood from the couch after another evening of shushing Winston to the sound of a mystery movie, Peter reached out and grabbed Egon’s hand.  “Hey,” He said, his eyes sliding away uncomfortably when Egon looked back at him.

“Yes?” Egon asked, sleepy and content and willing to listen.

“You know,” Peter looked back up, green eyes squarely meeting blue, “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, Peter,” Egon favored the man with a soft smile, “I know.”


End file.
